what.
“No.” I grab her arm and pull her onto the couch. “Do you remember Mom talking about her older sister? The one who ran off when she was in high school?”
Mattie frowns. “Um, kind of. Wasn’t her name Olivia?”
“Lydia,” I correct her. “And she’s in the kitchen right now, drinking coffee with Dad.”
Mattie’s face lights up. “Are you kidding me? Our long-lost aunt is in our house right now? Awesome!”
She jumps up, ready to run into the kitchen. I grab her hand.
“There’s something else you need to know.”
Mattie waits impatiently for me to go on.
“She looks a lot like Mom.”
Shrugging, Mattie says, “Well, duh. They were sisters.” She breaks free from my grasp and bolts out of the room.
I sigh, getting up to follow her. She can’t say I didn’t warn her.
When I reach the kitchen, I almost run into Mattie, who is frozen in the doorway. Sure enough, she is stunned by Lydia’s appearance.
Lydia and my father are seated at the table, each with a coffee cup in their hands. The scene really is disorienting. It’s as if my mother took a break from her afterlife to stop by and have a cup of joe with my father.
Lydia sets her coffee cup down and rises. “Matilda? My God. You’re so grown-up. So beautiful.”
My sister’s eyes well up with tears, and I wonder how long she’s been waiting for someone to say those exact words. How fitting for her to hear them from a woman who could be my mother’s doppelgänger.
Mattie releases a shuddering sob and then rushes into Lydia’s arms. I watch them for a moment, and then look at my father, wondering what he makes of all this. His face is twisted into a little frown.
It is decided that Lydia will stay in Mattie’s room for the evening, and Mattie will sleep in my room. After my father gives Lydia a little tour, he hands her a couple of towels and leaves her in the bathroom to get washed up.
My father, Mattie, and I sit around the kitchen table. Mattie has a million questions about Lydia. I keep my mouth shut and listen.
“Why has she been in California all this time? Why did she never come to see us?”
My father rubs his temples wearily. “She and your mother had a huge fight over a boy back when they were in high school. Lydia accused your mom of stealing her boyfriend. She took a CD that your mom had saved up for, U2’s The Joshua Tree , I think it was. . . .” Dad pauses to smile faintly. “And broke it into tiny pieces over your mother’s bed.”
I bite my thumbnail. “Is that it? She broke one of Mom’s CDs?”
“It was her favorite CD,” my father says. “And you know how your mother felt about her music. Plus, Lydia said some really terrible things, like how she’d destroy everything your mother ever loved. Shortly after, she ran away, and she took your mother’s college fund with her. As far as I know, that’s the last time the two ever saw each other.”
“Should we be letting her stay with us if she’s so terrible?” I ask.
My father shrugs. “She’s family. Where else would she stay? Besides, that was all a long time ago. People do change, honey.”
I look away. There’s an undercurrent in his words, almost as if he is referring to himself. After all, we recently found out that my father had an affair when my mother was dying of cancer. He had a baby out of wedlock and never told us. Only in the past couple of months have I really started to trust him again.
Mattie pokes me in the side. “Lighten up, Vee. It’s going to be fun, having her stay with us. She’ll have so many stories to tell us about Mom when she was a kid. Don’t you think, Dad?”
My dad forces his lips into a smile. “I’m sure she will.”
I don’t blame Mattie for her enthusiasm. She’s always complained that she doesn’t have any memories of our mother. Maybe Mattie is right. Lydia might be able to tell us things about our mother that my father never could. I’ve always wondered if she could slide.
“No.” I grab her arm and pull her onto the couch. “Do you remember Mom talking about her older sister? The one who ran off when she was in high school?”
Mattie frowns. “Um, kind of. Wasn’t her name Olivia?”
“Lydia,” I correct her. “And she’s in the kitchen right now, drinking coffee with Dad.”
Mattie’s face lights up. “Are you kidding me? Our long-lost aunt is in our house right now? Awesome!”
She jumps up, ready to run into the kitchen. I grab her hand.
“There’s something else you need to know.”
Mattie waits impatiently for me to go on.
“She looks a lot like Mom.”
Shrugging, Mattie says, “Well, duh. They were sisters.” She breaks free from my grasp and bolts out of the room.
I sigh, getting up to follow her. She can’t say I didn’t warn her.
When I reach the kitchen, I almost run into Mattie, who is frozen in the doorway. Sure enough, she is stunned by Lydia’s appearance.
Lydia and my father are seated at the table, each with a coffee cup in their hands. The scene really is disorienting. It’s as if my mother took a break from her afterlife to stop by and have a cup of joe with my father.
Lydia sets her coffee cup down and rises. “Matilda? My God. You’re so grown-up. So beautiful.”
My sister’s eyes well up with tears, and I wonder how long she’s been waiting for someone to say those exact words. How fitting for her to hear them from a woman who could be my mother’s doppelgänger.
Mattie releases a shuddering sob and then rushes into Lydia’s arms. I watch them for a moment, and then look at my father, wondering what he makes of all this. His face is twisted into a little frown.
It is decided that Lydia will stay in Mattie’s room for the evening, and Mattie will sleep in my room. After my father gives Lydia a little tour, he hands her a couple of towels and leaves her in the bathroom to get washed up.
My father, Mattie, and I sit around the kitchen table. Mattie has a million questions about Lydia. I keep my mouth shut and listen.
“Why has she been in California all this time? Why did she never come to see us?”
My father rubs his temples wearily. “She and your mother had a huge fight over a boy back when they were in high school. Lydia accused your mom of stealing her boyfriend. She took a CD that your mom had saved up for, U2’s The Joshua Tree , I think it was. . . .” Dad pauses to smile faintly. “And broke it into tiny pieces over your mother’s bed.”
I bite my thumbnail. “Is that it? She broke one of Mom’s CDs?”
“It was her favorite CD,” my father says. “And you know how your mother felt about her music. Plus, Lydia said some really terrible things, like how she’d destroy everything your mother ever loved. Shortly after, she ran away, and she took your mother’s college fund with her. As far as I know, that’s the last time the two ever saw each other.”
“Should we be letting her stay with us if she’s so terrible?” I ask.
My father shrugs. “She’s family. Where else would she stay? Besides, that was all a long time ago. People do change, honey.”
I look away. There’s an undercurrent in his words, almost as if he is referring to himself. After all, we recently found out that my father had an affair when my mother was dying of cancer. He had a baby out of wedlock and never told us. Only in the past couple of months have I really started to trust him again.
Mattie pokes me in the side. “Lighten up, Vee. It’s going to be fun, having her stay with us. She’ll have so many stories to tell us about Mom when she was a kid. Don’t you think, Dad?”
My dad forces his lips into a smile. “I’m sure she will.”
I don’t blame Mattie for her enthusiasm. She’s always complained that she doesn’t have any memories of our mother. Maybe Mattie is right. Lydia might be able to tell us things about our mother that my father never could. I’ve always wondered if she could slide.
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